Lovin' Touchin' Squeezin'
by writingrox12
Summary: Rachel Berry loves blowpops. And Noah Puckerman loves watching her love blowpops. Puckleberry SMUT. Heavy smut.


Rachel Berry loves blowpops.

And Noah Puckerman loves watching Rachel Berry love blowpops.

Recently, she's taken to eating one before every Glee practice because she says it helps moisten her throat.

Every time he remembers her saying those words, he wants to tell her that he'd be more than happy to moisten her throat for her. She doesn't even realize it, but when he watches her eat those damn suckers, it's all he can do not to pull a Finn and blow his load in his pants.

She also eats them after any major performances and he hates that he goes home and beats off in the shower to the image of Rachel Berry eating a fucking blowpop. That's gotta be illegal in some state.

He doesn't tell anyone about this, because even he knows it's fucked up. Normally, he and the guys share the girls that are in their spank banks, but Rachel is just…too much. He doesn't think Mike and Matt would be able to handle it, and he doubts Finn would either…if they were talking, that is.

So when they do their last performance of the school year, and he suffers through watching her suck on the sugary sphere for what he assumes is the last time, he thinks he's in the clear.

And his day gets better when texts him and says that his aunt needs her to come over for the weekend, and that she's taking his little sister, and that he's allowed to have some friends over.

"Party at my house!" he announces to the glee club. Immediately, Brittany and Santana are flipping open their cell phones, texting everyone in their damn contacts. He doesn't care. The more the merrier. His mother didn't exactly specify how many 'some' was, did she?

Later that night, Matt and Mike somehow (he doesn't care or ask how) walk in, both with a thirty pack under each arm.

"Alright!" someone announces, heading straight for the pair.

Jesus, half of the school's gotta be here. Brittany and Santana sure can spread news fast.

Puck is on his sixth or seventh beer, and about a fourth a liter of vodka someone kifed from their parents' liquor cabinet, feeling more than a buzz, when he walks into his living room to see the girls of Glee sitting on his couch laughing. Brittany and Santana are sitting next to each other (obviously), then Mercedes, then Kurt, then Tina, and Rachel is sitting on the arm.

Sucking on a fucking blowpop.

No. Fucking. Way.

Sober Puck would just groan longingly, turn around, and go get some more alcohol. But halfway drunk Puck walks over to Rachel, bends down, scoops her over his shoulder and turns, heading towards the stairs.

"Noah!" she screams in surprise. "What are you doing? I demand you put me down! Now! Noah!" she squeals, despite the fact that he clearly has no intention of listening to her.

When he walks up the stairs, she really starts freaking out. She's clutching his shirt like it's a fucking lifeline. "Ohmygod! You're going to drop me!"

"Please." He scoffs. He probably bench presses twice what she weighs on a practically daily basis.

When he's in his room finally, he finds Matt and one of the cheerios making out enthusiastically on his bed. "Out!" he barks.

They comply instantly and Matt looks at Rachel's ass with a confused look, as if trying to tell who it is by her rear end and the blue panties that have been revealed because her skirt has ridden up.

As soon as they are out, he sets her on her feet.

"What the-" but he doesn't let her finish.

He presses her against the wall and kisses her roughly, licking her lips. She tastes like cherry blowpop and alcohol and he groans, gripping her hips. But she shoves him away.

"Noah!" she gapes. "What has gotten into you?" she asks, straightening her shirt and skirt.

"You." He says, as though it isn't completely obvious.

"I beg your pardon?"

He groans. "I've had to watch you eat those god damn things for weeks and do you have any idea what that does to a guy? Watching a girl as hot as you suck on something? Anything!"

"What are- Are you talking about the lollipops?" she asks, her brow furrowed as though he's crazy, because he totally seems it right now.

"Yes!" he practically shouts.

"I told you, it helps moisten my throat!" she objects.

He groans again, pressing his body against hers and kissing her neck as he seductively whispers, "I'd be happy to do that for you."

She sighs softly, and he knows that what he's doing to the spot right behind her ear feels good right now. He's done it to her before, and she's loved it. Her hands are on his shoulders as if she's considering pushing him away, and he can't have that. He didn't suffer through countless blowpops just to have her push him away.

He gently grabs one of her thighs and hitches her knee, pulling their lower halves closer together, resulting in another, louder sigh from her. He knows he's got a hard on, and now she does too.

"We…we can't…do this here." She sighs.

"Nobody'll hear us." He reassures her, grinding their hips together.

She moans and her grip on his shoulders tightens for a second. He captures her lips in another kiss before she can say anything else and as he does this, the hand that isn't holding her knee at his waist slides down her side and beneath the hem of her shirt, pushing it up a few inches so that he could feel her bare skin.

The contact makes them both groan and this time, it's her who grinds her hips against his. He practically blows his load right there, but manages to keep himself under control long enough to lift her other leg up so she has no choice but to wrap them around him.

Somewhere in her mind, she knows they shouldn't be doing this. Her and Finn aren't officially an item or anything, but she still knows that it would hurt him immensely to know that she was doing this. But when Puck grabs her other leg, pulling them closer to each other, she forgets all about everything that isn't his erection pressed against her center.

After a few minutes of practically dry humping against the wall next to his door, he decides he can't take it any more and he supports her with his hands under her ass (oh yeah, totally on purpose) as he walks over to his bed, practically dropping her. He whips his shirt off in a move that seems almost inhumanely fast, but she doesn't care.

Noah Puckerman is nothing if not completely fucking delectable when he's half naked.

He climbs onto the bed, in between her partially open legs, and pushes her shirt up, kissing her stomach and causing delightful shivers to run up her spine. Eventually, he's kissing her lips again, rough and delicious, while he runs a hand up her side. He bravely feels her breast, causing her to gasp and break the kiss.

"We shouldn't!" she says in a breathless tone.

"But you so want to." He says against her neck, making her shiver.

She hates to admit it, but she's right. She's had a couple beers herself, and her lack of regular drinking makes her somewhat of a lightweight so she's feeling a tad buzzed, and the way Noah's lips feel against hers, and on her neck, make her wonder how they'd feel elsewhere.

He takes her silence as agreement and he slides his hand back down her body to her thigh. His fingers tease her as they glide under her skirt to her panties, causing her to whimper.

"You're so fucking sexy." He groans into her shoulder. Hearing him say that makes her even wetter, because it's nice to know that he wants _this_ her badly just because of a stupid pre-practice, and post-performance ritual.

"I didn't know blowpops could affect someone so much." She says breathlessly.

He groans. "Only when you suck on 'em." He says. "And believe it, that's definitely not all I'd like you to suck on." He says, picturing her cheeks hallowed out as she sucks on the red ones, which are his favorite (or least favorite depending on how you looked at it).

"Noah!" she scolds. "You're repulsive." She says, but his words turn her on even if she doesn't want to admit it.

And when he rubs her through her panties, she doesn't have much of a choice in the matter. She gasps, her hips jerking and he grins. He grinds his hips against her, but he realizes that his jeans need to go. Like, now.

He sits up on his knees and chuckles at her pout upon the loss of contact. But he needs to get rid of these things. He unbuttons and unzips them, pushing them down before lying between her legs again and kicking them the rest of the way off. And this time when he grinds his cock against her panty-clad core, she bucks her hips against him, gasping his name in a way that could almost make him come on the spot.

"I want you…so bad right now." He groans before kissing her roughly.

He can feel her wetness through his boxers and her panties, and he wonders what she'd feel like around his cock. She's moaning underneath him and she bites his bottom lip, surprising him. He stops and looks at her, his eyes wide.

"What? I'm sorry! I shouldn't have done that." She mutters, shaking her head.

Bull shit she shouldn't have done that.

Why did he never realize how badly he wanted to fuck her before now?

Oh, right. Because she's an arrogant, critical, talkative, chick that spent the greater part of the school year totally obsessed with his ex-best friend.

But right now, none of that matters. He flips them over so she's on top now, and she straddles him, gasping as she rubs against him.

"Do it again." He orders, pulling her down to kiss him again. This time, she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, biting it a bit harder, causing him to groan loudly and hold her hips still while he thrusts against her, making her whimper in return.

She wants it. She wants it so bad it's an ache in the pit of her stomach. And she knows he wants it too. And he knows she wants it. So why are neither of them getting it?

Right. Clothing. Stupid, useless pieces of clothing. At least, right now.

It's then that he notices she hasn't even taken her shirt off. And it's a button-down. Great. He reaches up and begins undoing the bottom buttons, and she works on the top. Their hands meet somewhere in the middle and he sits up slightly to push the article down her shoulders, revealing her shoulders and collar bone. She's still got a tank top on, and her tits look fucking fantastic in it. He reaches up, fondling her breasts, watching as she tosses her had back and moans.

Okay, so this definitely has to go too.

He pushes the tank top up, hoping she gets the hint. And she does.

And he nearly dies.

She's not wearing a bra. His jaw drops as he takes in her topless form.

"Built in bra." She says, a tad embarrassed of the way he's ogling her breasts. They're just breasts after all. She'll never understand the male fascination with them.

Rachel Berry has perfect tits. Puck doesn't think she knows this, but he can tell her later. Right now, he just wants to touch them and taste them.

And he does. He sits up, cupping one breast and flicking his thumb over the nipple while he takes the other bud in his mouth, creating hardened peaks and groaning when he hears her moan in appreciation. She has her hands on the back of his neck, her nails lightly scraping through the almost-mohawk that is slowly growing back.

"Noah…" she sighs longingly. "I need…"

He pulls his lips away from her torso. "Need what?" he asks, though he knows the answer perfectly well, because he needs her just as much.

She tries to glare at him, but her eyes are hazy and clouded with lust, just as his are.

"You." She says.

He's not going to tease her much longer. He lays back down and reaches into his bed stand drawer to pull out a condom. She rolls off of him, quickly discarding her panties while he does the same to his boxers, and then she watches with an almost hungry expression when he rolls the condom down over his cock. He looks over at her.

"I want you on top." He says and she bites her lip as she climbs back on him, straddling his hips.

She groans as he brushes his cock along her cunt, and she's practically dripping. He positions himself at her entrance and they both moan loudly when she slowly impales herself on him. She feels so fucking good. She's so tight, so hot. It's all he can do not to explode right then and there.

"Fuck, Rachel." He groans as she slowly fucks him, rolling her hips forward.

"Mmm, God, Noah." She moans, her nails digging into his chest.

She's going too damn slow. He grabs her hips to still her and she looks down, not appreciating it, but that's only because she doesn't know what he's about to do to her. He slowly lifts her ever so slightly before, without warning, pounding into her as fast as his body will let him. She's practically screaming, her head thrown back, her tits bouncing, as he fucks her from underneath. It's the hottest thing he's ever seen and he tries really, really hard not to come before she does.

She's surprised she isn't dead yet. This is too fucking good to be true. She must be about to get struck by lightning or something, because this is incredible in every sense of the word. He's thick and hard inside of her and she couldn't ask for anything more. She can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge with each thrust and she bites her bottom lip, whimpering and moaning his name.

And fuck, does he love hearing her moan his name, even if she does address him as Noah. He wants to make her come, and soon. Because he wants to watch her fall apart, and feel her cunt tightening around his dick as she does so.

He flips them over again and is happy to note that he didn't slip out of her in the process. He pushes one of her legs up so her calf is on his shoulder, and he knows she can take it because she's a dancer and she's flexible. She cries out when he hits her in the perfect spot and he knows it won't be long before she's coming undone underneath him.

"Mm, Rachel, fuck!" he grunts as he also feels himself getting closer and closer. "Come for me." He orders, slamming into her almost violently.

And she obeys.

She loses it, arching her back, her eye shut tight and her mouth opened wide as she screams his name loud enough that he's sure the party goers downstairs probably heard, or at least the ones in the living room that could look up and see his doorway at the top of the stairs.

He follows shortly after because with her cunt squeezing his cock in an almost painful way, how could he not? He grunts her name while he comes and then he collapses, half on top of her, half on his side. They're both panting, covered in a sheen of sweat. He thinks it's close to the best sex he's ever had. And she never even took her skirt off.

A few minutes later, she stands up and begins to get dressed.

"Where're you goin'?" he asks her, tossing the condom into his trash can. She's trying to avoid looking at him, and he wonders if that's because she's ashamed of what they've just done, or because he's bare naked and still slightly hard (somehow).

"Downstairs." She responds as she puts her tank top back on. "It's late."

"You've been drinking. You should probably stay and fuck it off." He smirks, watching her blush.

As she buttons her shirt, he stands up and heads to the door, leaning against it. When she turns to leave, her eyes go straight to his dick, which is getting harder as she stares at his naked form. He's already up for another round.

"Well…" she says, her eyes going back up to his face. "Buzzed driving _is_ drunk driving." She says, her fingers unbuttoning her shirt as if it's automatic.

Puck smirks and heads towards her, grabbing her in a rough kiss before they stumble back to the bed.

Fucking blowpops.


End file.
